


Luminescence

by merry_amelie



Series: Luminescence [1]
Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: Action/Adventure, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-03-08
Updated: 2003-03-08
Packaged: 2018-04-12 09:14:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4473668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merry_amelie/pseuds/merry_amelie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan follow the trail of corrupted lightsaber crystals.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Luminescence

**Author's Note:**

  * For [splix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/splix/gifts).



> Feedback: Is treasured at merryamelie@aol.com (or leave a comment).
> 
> Disclaimer: Mr. Lucas owns everything Star Wars. I'm not making any money.
> 
> I felt awful using cuddly Yoda as the 'matchbreaker' in Natural Resources, and restored him to his usual role of matchmaker here.

Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi stood in front of his class of junior Padawans. This was a momentous day for them: they were about to spar with lit lightsabers for the first time, instead of dull practice blades. He had just delivered the safety lecture, and reminded them of parts of the body they were forbidden to attack.

"Power up on the lowest setting," came the soft command, and the children began their forms. Obi-Wan watched the action intently, noting positions and strategies. He walked around the room, offering suggestions and improvements.

As Obi-Wan corrected a child's stance, he saw a saber humming near the unprotected stomach of a Malastarean Padawan, and felt an upsurge of ugly Force energy. "Stop, Padawans, all of you! Drop your sabers." As quick as thought, he blocked the energy beam with his own more powerful one, as the clatter of sabers against plasticrete filled the room. "Doors seal!" he barked to the comp system. Obi-Wan sent a silent plea to Master Yoda, and a summons to his former Master, as well.

He heard crying in the background, as he grimly began opening saber casings and removing the crystals. To his surprise, the crystals were black and did not lose their glow when disengaged. Obi-Wan had intended to save them to show Qui-Gon and Yoda, but immediately crushed them to powder under his boots instead. That done, he gathered the sobbing children into his arms and tried to soothe them.

Qui-Gon only stopped running when he reached the door of the practice room. All of the children were safe, thank the Force. His throat went suddenly dry when he saw them clustered around Obi-Wan, drawn to his warmth and compassion.

Obi-Wan saw him at the door, and released the locking mechanism with a thought. Qui-Gon burst in, followed closely by Bant, with whom he'd been having lunch, and ran to Obi-Wan. "What's happened?" 

The young Knight pointed to the dust on the floor. "The crystals are flawed." Turning to his friend, he said, "Bant, would you take the children back to their quarters, please?" Nodding, she led the subdued group out of the room.

Qui-Gon's eyes had that faraway look they got when he communicated telepathically. "Master Yoda and the other Councillors are clearing the other practice rooms, and destroying the crystals."

Now that they were alone, and the immediate danger was past, Qui-Gon did what he'd wanted to do the minute he'd arrived: he crushed Obi-Wan to him in his powerful arms. He could feel the minute tremors in the Knight's body, and became aware of answering ones in his own. Both of them knew that tragedy had barely been averted. If Obi-Wan hadn't been so preternaturally aware, and gifted with uncanny reflexes, the corrupted crystals would have caused untold harm.

"Obi-Wan, I'm so proud of you." He felt the Knight unobtrusively burrow further into his tunics at this. A whimsical smile lit Qui-Gon's face as he was reminded of a creche tale, The Prince and the Padawan, in which the Prince could feel his own true love through innumerable layers of Jedi coarsecloth. Would Obi-Wan ever think of his former Master as a Prince, though?

Obi-Wan, for his part, was drinking in the praise and comfort of Qui-Gon's aura, and wondering how long he could reasonably linger in his embrace. "Thank you, Qui-Gon, but remember that the maturity of the Padawans is what really averted disaster. Had there been any panic, the corruption in the crystals would have actually fed off it, I believe."

Suppressing a shudder, Qui-Gon tipped Obi-Wan's face up to see his eyes. Reassured by the calm he saw there, he said, "We'd better talk to Yoda." He kept one arm wrapped around Obi-Wan's shoulder as they exited the practice room.

* * *

"Trained Obi-Wan well you did, my Padawan." Master Yoda cackled at the Knight's blush as he sat on a tiny chair in his quarters. The only remaining dark crystal was in a Force-shielded container on his kitchen table. "Feel the negative energy I can. Find the source of these crystals we must. From Darantec on the planet Nemor shipment order came."

"We'll do a little digging tonight, Master Yoda," Obi-Wan said.

"Is the Lightstream ready for us to leave tomorrow, Master?"

Nodding slowly, Yoda said, "To Pad 10 at sixth hour you must go."

"Walk in the Light, my Master," Qui-Gon said, as they took their leave.

* * *

When they returned to their rooms, Obi-Wan prepared cha, while Qui-Gon immediately sat down at the comp, and started referencing and cross-referencing all available information on Darantec. This particular shipment had come to the Temple a month ago, and had undergone all the usual tests of purity and safety. The problems had only appeared with a lit saber, so something about the activation had rendered them dangerous. They had seemed to be inert before this.

Obi-Wan sat next to him, keying his own datapad into the system, and rapidly scrolled through the incoming information. "This is the first time the Temple has ordered from Darantec. Our previous suppliers were tapped out. We change sources roughly every five years due to depletion." Obi-Wan paused as he changed screens. "Here's the information on the official we'll be dealing with. Master Yoda's already sent us a copy of the holo he sent her."

They were at the comp for a solid four hours before Obi-Wan felt a gentle touch on his shoulder. He leaned his head back into Qui-Gon's stomach, as he gently massaged Obi-Wan's arms. "Time for bed, my Knight," he said softly against Obi-Wan's hair.

Obi-Wan stayed seated, trying for a few precious seconds of extra closeness. It was times like these before bedtime, when both of them were exhausted, that he could indulge in his favorite daydream of Qui-Gon and himself as lovers. A harmless fantasy, surely, and one he found increasingly necessary to sustain his spirit. 

Although they still lived and worked together after his Knighting, which had been more than he'd expected, Obi-Wan found his friendship with his former Master to be limiting. He realized that he could end his uncertainty at any time by simply telling Qui-Gon how he felt, but he was unwilling to risk possible rejection as his lover. Then the dream that he'd carried through childhood to maturity would come to a definite end, one Obi-Wan could not bear. So he remained silent.

Qui-Gon noticed Obi-Wan's preoccupation, and continued to rub his shoulders and arms soothingly. Obi-Wan slowly stood up, and found a smile for his former Master.

* * *

The Jedi took their chairs with easy familiarity. The Lightstream was unofficially 'their' ship, used routinely on their diplomatic and humanitarian missions. Obi-Wan was a natural pilot, with excellent coordination and whip-fast reflexes, which the practice room fiasco had unfortunately tested.

Luckily, for this mission they had Council clearance, eliminating the usual wait of up to a few hours for space lane assignment. They'd often joked that the importance of their missions could be judged by how much time they spent waiting on the pad.

When the Jedi arrived on Nemor, they rented speeders to reach the tech sector, about twenty kilometers from the spaceport. They looked for a white silicrete building one hundred stories tall. Obi-Wan had arranged to meet Serka Pelu, consumer rep for the company. The Jedi cast out their Force sense to search for any telling disturbances, but found nothing amiss.

Pelu greeted them in a lush grey office, deeply carpeted and filled with plants. "I am most pleased to meet you, honored Jedi," she said in slightly accented Standard. They bowed, and she continued, "I understand your Temple has had problems with the crystals we manufactured?" At Qui-Gon's nod, she said, "We've called up all the records from your lot for you to review." She handed them datapads.

"Thank you, Contreli Pelu," Obi-Wan said. "We'd also like to witness the manufacturing process itself, if that can be arranged."

"Certainly. Would you like to come at seventh hour tomorrow morning when we start production for the day?"

Qui-Gon said, "That would be ideal."

"I took the liberty of arranging overnight accomodations at The Fountains hotel in the downtown district, at our expense, of course," Serka said.

"Thank you for your thoughtfulness," Obi-Wan said.

"We'll meet on the factory floor tomorrow then, gentlemen. Enjoy your evening."

* * *

The Fountains turned out to be a five moon hotel primarily geared to well-heeled business travellers. The suite arranged for them was equipped with a comp that linked to the planet's central system, data entry and retrieval ports in the common room, and the two bedrooms leading off from it. A kitchenette near the entrance completed the facilities. The color scheme, coincidentally, was done in earth tones: a warm, inviting palette of cream, brick, and chocolate brown, intimately familiar to them.

The bedrooms were the same size, both with bathrooms. Out of habit, Qui-Gon took the one on the left and Obi-Wan the right, echoing their positions at home. Obi-Wan threw his pack on the floor by the closet, and happily relaxed on the bed, testing its firmness. Another habit: the first thing the Knight liked to do in whatever quarters they might have on missions was to check the quality of the bedding. Qui-Gon had teased him over the years about his so-called 'sybaritic' behavior, and Obi-Wan had grinned back at him, continuing to do it anyway. If this was the extent of his hedonism, even a Jedi would not find it excessive.

Obi-Wan was not surprised to find that the mattress was perfect, matching their elegant surroundings. That settled, he rose to begin unpacking. He was already looking forward to dinner and perhaps some entertainment afterwards. After he'd folded his last tunic, he went off in search of Qui-Gon. 

The Master, too, hadn't been able to resist checking the mattress, and was lightly asleep, hair covering the pillows. Obi-Wan eagerly drank in the sight of him. After all, it wasn't that often that he got to see Qui-Gon in repose. Although they'd lived together at the Temple for fourteen years, he had rarely entered his Master's bedroom, respecting his privacy. The lines melted away in sleep, along with a Jedi Master's ever-present sense of responsibility. This left Obi-Wan looking at a different Qui-Gon Jinn. He might have been a man of thirty five, judging from the youthful smoothing of the face and soft skin visible in the dusky light.

Obi-Wan had to restrain himself from pouncing on him as he slept. He quietly turned away to wash and change for dinner. He got some water from the kitchenette, and sat on the couch to study the Darantec datapads.

Qui-Gon woke a few minutes later, surrounded by Obi-Wan's lingering presence in his room. It was a nice feeling to wake up to. He decided to meditate before facing his former charge. Qui-Gon had had no time to deal with the emotions stirred up by the near-disaster in the practice room. When he'd run into the room, he'd felt the dual urge to protect his former Padawan, and be under his protection, as were the junior Padawans present. This surprised him because, although they both looked out for each other on their missions, Qui-Gon usually considered himself the defender. Obi-Wan, however, had outgrown this paternalistic approach, and Qui-Gon's change in attitude showed that he considered them equals now. 

Obi-Wan was a Knight, indeed one of the most accomplished of the Order. So what was stopping him from asking him out? Fear of rejection, of course. Qui-Gon suddenly made a resolution that would make Master Yoda proud: instead of fear leading to the dark, he would use his fear to possibly achieve a positive outcome. 

Tonight was perfect. Qui-Gon resolved to invite his former Padawan to dinner and perhaps dancing afterward. They were off Coruscant, with all its attendant emotions and ties to the past. It was an ideal time to start fresh: they were just two Knights with downtime on their mission.

Qui-Gon felt lighter when he returned to ordinary consciousness. He took a water shower, and dressed in mufti: white pullover sweater over charcoal grey slacks. Qui-Gon picked up the 'Things to Do' on Nemor pad on the dresser. He quickly spotted a gourmet restaurant serving Feldian cuisine, which he'd heard Obi-Wan mention that he'd like to try. Qui-Gon made reservations for two on the pad, hoping for the best. There was a dance club nearby that looked like it catered to a conservative clientele. Qui-Gon had the evening planned out, if Obi-Wan was interested...in him.

He walked into the common room to see Obi-Wan poring over a datapad, looking dapper in a light blue shirt and navy pants. Qui-Gon was heartened by the appreciative look he saw in Obi-Wan's eyes at the sight of him. He sat on the couch as Obi-Wan put the pad aside. 

Steeling himself, Qui-Gon said softly, "I'd like to take you to dinner and dancing tonight, Obi." He raised his eyes from the blue shirt he'd been studying intently, to see Obi-Wan's luminous eyes shining at him.

"That would be wonderful, Qui." Obi-Wan took his hand, and together they rose from the sofa. 

* * *

The Grotto was in the center of a small city park. It had exterior walls of cool stone, and pala flowers interspersed the wisti grass at their feet. A night breeze played across their faces. The two Jedi relished this off-duty time, enjoying each other's company as they relaxed in the park.

Obi-Wan grew drowsy as they waited on a stone bench for their table. His head was pillowed on Qui-Gon's shoulder, and the Master's cloak covered both of them against the evening chill. He always felt warmer in Qui-Gon's cloak than in his own. The mechanical beeps of a servodroid woke him. Their table was ready.

The dim interior was lit entirely by the warmth of glowstones. Their alcove offered sumptuous privacy, filled with a softly upholstered sofa just barely wide enough for two, especially if one of them happened to be a 6 foot 4 Jedi Master.

Obi-Wan's eyes danced. "After you, Qui-Gon," he said, the perfect image of a courteous Knight, but the Master could see the mischief sparkling beneath the surface.

Qui-Gon settled himself with some difficulty, trying to leave enough room without Obi-Wan having to use his lap as a cushion. Obi-Wan miraculously fit into the appointed space, even without use of the Force. Of course, the sides of their bodies were touching at every possible point, as well as a few less than probable ones. Obi-Wan was thinking that it all posed an interesting problem in mechanics when he realized it also posed a more, ah, practical problem. Turning to look at Qui-Gon, he saw by his color that the Jedi Master was well aware of this.

Qui-Gon made a study of the fine white linen tablecloth and the blue patterned china, as he tried to get his breathing under control. He could smell the jasai soap from Obi-Wan's shower on the russet hair falling over his former Padawan's shoulders. He drank his wine bracingly, and buttered a piece of crusty black bread.

Sensing Qui-Gon's need for reassurance, Obi-Wan said, "This was a wonderful idea, Qui. Thanks for inviting me." He sipped his water. "It's my treat next time." A subtle indication on his part that he intended to continue their courtship.

Qui-Gon, ever the experienced diplomat, picked up on this right away, and couldn't conceal his smile. "My pleasure, Obi. And of course you'll choose the place." 

Their salads arrived, unidentifiable greens with a champagne vinaigrette dressing. The salad course can be a real test on a date. Ask any herbivore: leaves are just not easy to eat elegantly. Chomping would most accurately describe what Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan were forced to do. Luckily, theirs was not a typical date, in the sense that having lived together for years, they were already well aware of each other's eating habits. 

If anything, the chomping added some much-needed humor to their meal. They were both so aware of the significance of this first step towards intimacy that they'd been trying too hard for the perfect word, mood, and attitude. Then the salad course worked its magic, and they were Qui and Obi once more, supremely comfortable in one another's presence. Stilted formality was not their style, except when called for in their profession.

Obi-Wan's eyes twinkled as he said, "Tonight's really not so different after all, Qui. Since I was Knighted six months ago, we've requested joint missions, and spent our free time with each other. I just never felt the need to prove myself on my own that so many other new Knights seem to have."

Qui-Gon smiled gently. "That's because you've done it already, again and again. I've always let you take more than a typical Padawan's share in our missions. You've been a Jedi Knight for a long time now, well before the title was officially given to you."

Obi-Wan's face was flushed from wine and the compliment. "Thank you, Qui-Gon," he said earnestly. He visibly composed himself before he went on. He looked into Qui-Gon's eyes, almost indigo in this light, and said, "You look happy." 

"That's only because I am, Obi." He reached out to grasp Obi-Wan's hand. Clicks and pops from the droid alerted them to the arrival of their meal: rasak fish wrapped in seaweed over wild pirt grains. Lemon brandy sauce waited in a gravy dish to the side.

Obi-Wan looked at Qui-Gon's eyes in the light of the glowstones. Darker, naturally, than they appeared in the sun or artificial light: love and warmth lived in that tender regard. They shared contented smiles as they tucked into their dinner.

"You know, I've had thousands of meals with you over the years: trays at the Temple, diplomatic banquets, quiet firstmeals. I've even been out to eat with you, but I've never felt like this before." Their previous meals out together had tended towards the utilitarian: a quick bite at Dex's Diner, snacks on the hop, Jedi 'fast food' at the Temple's 10th floor sandwich cafe. Obi-Wan reached his left hand out to capture Qui-Gon's own.

"That's because it's never been like this before between us." Qui-Gon raised the hand in his own to his lips.

"What do you want, Qui?"

"Everything, in time. Now, just this: your friendship beyond our work, your smile just for me."

"Anything you want has always been yours." Obi-Wan cupped Qui-Gon's furry cheek with his hand.

The droid chose that moment to make its reappearance with the dessert menu. "You know, I hear you're pretty good with a wrench." Qui-Gon grinned as he picked up the menu, deliberately taking the opportunity to lessen the intensity of their talk.

Understanding and a corresponding mischief sparked in Obi-Wan's eyes. "It'd be easier just to cut its treads."

"Why, Obi, I'm shocked." It took a considerable effort not to laugh, even for the serene Master Jinn.

"When did teasing me become your favorite pastime?" Obi-Wan grumbled.

"About the time I decided that the look you get on your face is priceless."

Eyes sparkling, Obi-Wan leaned over to whisper in Qui-Gon's ear. "You're naught but a romantic scoundrel, my Master Jedi."

Qui-Gon chuckled richly at this. "That I am, young man, that I am." 

* * *

After they finished their excellent meal, they headed over to the dance club. The lighting there seemed even dimmer than at the restaurant, if possible, but what they could see looked encouraging. A silver dance floor was surrounded by lush burgundy carpeting; grey half-moon booths dotted the interior at discreet intervals. A five piece band was playing Correllian jazz: meandering, smoky, and hot.

The drinks menu looked more like a book, but they both decided on non-alcoholic choices, since they'd already had wine with dinner. A berrafruit freeze for Obi-Wan; iced malani cider for Qui-Gon.

The Jedi Master was glad to see couples of all types dancing there. He'd read in his mission research that Nemor boasted an advanced society free of prejudice, but Qui-Gon liked to verify these things for himself.

Qui-Gon had never danced with Obi-Wan before. It was their duty to entertain diplomats on various worlds; they weren't there to amuse each other. But he had watched Obi-Wan's natural grace as he'd floated around the ballrooms of dozens of planets, mentally substituting himself for the lucky person in Obi-Wan's arms. Tonight, he'd finally have the opportunity to feel the Knight in his own embrace. 

After a few fortifying sips of cider, Qui-Gon asked, "Would you like to dance, Obi-Wan?"

"Yes, I'd love to, Qui-Gon."

Qui-Gon came around the table to claim his hand, conscious as he did so that his courtliness might be out of place between them. Obi-Wan rose from his seat with an insouciant grin that told Qui-Gon he knew just what the Master was thinking, and didn't mind a bit. In fact, if the deepening cleft in Obi-Wan's chin was any indication, Qui-Gon knew he could look forward to having the tables turned on him by one impish Knight. Obi-Wan winked at him: retribution would begin sooner than Qui-Gon had anticipated then.

Obi-Wan melted into Qui-Gon's arms as if he'd always been there. He kept enough space between them for decorum, and effortlessly took the lead in a free-form dance, flowing into the pulse of the music as easily as he performed advanced katas in the salles at home. The music seemed to throb in time to the beat of his heart.

Obi-Wan took the Jedi Master along with him. Although a competent dancer, since he considered the skill essential to diplomacy, Qui-Gon lacked the Knight's spontaneity and fire on the floor. As they danced, however, Qui-Gon gradually began loosening up, to the point of initiating some stylish moves of his own.

Breathless and beaming, they leaned on each other as they headed for their table. Qui-Gon, for his part, was amazed that no one had tried to cut in. He'd noticed the magnetized eyes of the surrounding dancers locked on Obi-Wan, and while his pride was justifiable, he'd have to work on his jealousy.

Obi-Wan saw quite a different picture. He thought the covetous looks had been aimed at Qui-Gon. Truth be told, both of the Jedi were the objects of desire for much of the room, a situation they had reluctantly grown used to in the course of their travels.

They were relieved when they returned to the relative anonymity of their little booth, especially when no one followed them. The others in the club had realized that they had no chance: the Jedi unintentionally had exuded exclusivity from every pore, and their fellow dancers were expert in picking up vibes.

The Jedi checked their drinks for adulteration, more by force of habit than any sense of unease. Qui-Gon smiled to himself as he thought, "Funny, I still feel euphoric even without an additional stimulant."

He looked over at Obi-Wan. The young man was flushed and sweat glistened on his forehead. "There's a club in the Bellini district of Coruscant where you can almost hear the Living Force thrumming in the walls. We don't have to wait for mission downtime to indulge ourselves." Obi-Wan clinked his glass to Qui-Gon's.

The Jedi Master didn't know if it was the sultry atmosphere of the club, or Obi-Wan's natural sensuality coming out to play here in their off-duty time on a distant world. Whatever it was felt both freeing and intoxicating to Qui-Gon. He found himself wishing for more. How could he have never noticed this side of his former Padawan?

His answering grin at Obi-Wan intensified as the reason came to him. Obi-Wan at the core was a man of duty. His time at the Temple had refined him, yes, but the basic commitment to the Light was enmeshed in his soul. He had spent the last fourteen years of his life dedicated to causes greater than himself. Nothing could be further removed from the life of a sensualist. However, Qui-Gon now clearly saw that this was just as much of an integral part of his personality as his wisdom, valor, and honor. Obi-Wan was indeed a gift for the senses, a present just for the two of them.

"I look forward to seeing Coruscant at night through your eyes, my Knight."

"You will, Qui, especially now that I don't have to worry about making curfew."

"Speaking of which, are you ready to return to the hotel?"

Obi-Wan rose and held Qui-Gon's cloak out for him with a flourish. Calibrating the balance of power in their new relationship was going to be interesting. 

They walked hand in hand to The Fountains, though their cloaks obscured it. They might be dating now, but Jedi discretion still held sway. When they arrived at their rooms, neither was in a hurry to part for the night. After all, there were still eight hours before their appointment at the factory tomorrow. Why waste them sleeping, especially when possessed of a Jedi's lesser need for rest.

Obi-Wan sent Qui-Gon to sit on the couch by the fire in the common room, and went to the kitchen to prepare some hot cacao for them. He served Qui-Gon using a modified version of the tea ceremony, amusing them greatly.

They had indulged in this cozy domesticity ever since the first days of Obi-Wan's apprenticeship. Never had they done it side by side without room for even the Force between them. After their intimate dinner and close dancing, they were completely comfortable in each other's space. 

When he finished his cacao, Obi-Wan sighed, and leaned back on Qui-Gon's chest. When he was little, he used to snuggle into Qui-Gon before bedtime. Their new closeness as men brought back memories of a time when Obi-Wan had thought nothing of cuddling up to his Master after a long day.

Qui-Gon's arms went around his stomach with a perfect snug fit. "Must be muscle memory," Obi-Wan thought sleepily. The young Knight made a passable attempt at covering the big hands with his own. They stayed that way for a few minutes, feeling more warmth than the cacao would account for.

Finally, Qui-Gon stirred. "Time for bed, my Obi. I'll see you at sixth hour for firstmeal." He stood up, lifting Obi-Wan to his feet with him. A brush of furred lip on his forehead, so faint it almost might have been his imagination, and Obi-Wan was left to make his way to his solitary bed, content to dream of future intimacies.

* * *

The next morning they met at breakfast: showered, well-rested, and ready to tackle the Darantec inspection. The Master pulled Obi-Wan into a bear hug. His new longer hair was harder to ruffle than the Padawan spikes, but Qui-Gon was undaunted. Obi-Wan laughed in pure joy. He no longer had to hide his love for this wonderful man. He captured one of the ruffling hands and nuzzled his cheek against it.

Qui-Gon rumbled in satisfaction. "Now this is the way to start the day." He felt Obi-Wan's smile beneath his hand.

Reluctantly, they turned to quotidian tasks, conscious that their appointment at Darantec was only an hour away. Obi-Wan checked the cooling unit, which held juice, cheese, and fruit. Qui-Gon headed for the door, where the management had promised to place a basket of fresh bread.

The men settled down to their meal. Nothing and everything had changed. Their breakfast was as companionable as ever, but there was a frisson of awareness between the two that had never been present before. 

Qui-Gon felt relaxed enough to touch knees with Obi-Wan under the table. "Did you sleep well, Obi?"

"Yes, thanks. I even had some pretty amazing dreams," he said with a mischievous grin.

Qui-Gon's eyebrow quirked up enquiringly at that. "Would I happen to be featured in any of them?"

"No," Obi-Wan said, and then hurried to finish when he saw Qui-Gon's face fall. "You were in all of them."

"You really should know better than to play with a Jedi Master, my Knight." A wolvish grin lit his face. "You'll see the consequences when we're finished with our business here. Let's head out."

They rinsed their dishes, grabbed their cloaks, and were on their way to Darantec. 

Pelu met them at the entrance to the manufacturing floor. "Hello, gentlemen. I hope you enjoyed your stay at The Fountains."

"An excellent hotel, Contreli. Our thanks."

Pelu smiled, and said, "Let's get started on the tour, shall we?" As they walked along, she described the production process. "As you know from your reading, these are not naturally forming crystals, which would have to be mined. We actually grow them in the lab from their inception. This allows us to customize each batch for a particular client."

They arrived at the door of a lab. Pelu handed them steri-suits, and donned one herself. "We like to call this the 'crystal nursery'." Fifty workstations were evenly spaced in rows filling the room. The Jedi were quite familiar with the set-up: they'd seen the same in the science sector of the Temple, and on numerous fact-finding missions for Chancellor Valorum.

"Our starter solutions in your case are liquids--prelistine, arlistine, and telistine--which evaporate to create crystallization. The first two are the most commonly used, producing green and blue specimens. The cluster of crystals is then faceted by expert gem-cutters to the specifications the Temple provides us with."

Pelu walked them around to the various stations: they saw the liquid base being decanted, the evaporation chamber, and the lattice check area. Just as on the day before, the Jedi used their Force awareness to scan for anomalies, again without result.

The next area housed the gem-cutters. Thousands of crystals were in boxes covering every surface of the room. The boxes were color-coded to show the status of the crystals within. Pelu explained that red meant uncut, yellow: rejected, blue: in progress, and green: finished. 

Then it was on to the polishing chamber, where the crystals were buffed to a high gloss. From there, they proceeded to the inspection site, and looked through the high powered magniscopes. The sharp-sighted experts pored over the crystals searching for any imaginable flaw. They heard the sound of rejected gems being shunted into bins for later crushing.

The last part of their tour found them witnessing the packaging of the crystals. The men were familiar with these boxes, having selected their own crystals from similar packages before. Each crystal was individually housed in a tiny compartment, and prevented from motion by sprayfoam. The containers held lots of fifty.

The Temple had ordered twenty lots from Darantec, a common first order to test the merchandise. In this case, it had paid off in an unexpected way: less danger from the tainted crystals as well as faster and easier destruction of the bad lots.

This completed the search at the manufacturing site. The Jedi had found nothing unusual or suspect at Darantec. Now they had a much more unpleasant task: to return to the Temple, and determine if the crystals had been tampered with there.

* * *

Once aboard the Lightstream, Obi-Wan set their course for Coruscant, and he and Qui-Gon went to work. Their little lab near the kitchen soon had brightly colored gems on its counter. Obi-Wan, using natural talents Qui-Gon hadn't encouraged as a Padawan, had taken samples of the crystals from each stage of the manufacturing process, as well as from areas not on public display. Pelu had refused to provide any, claiming that the competition would pay dearly for their secrets.

An hour later, their experiments confirmed what their senses had told them: these crystals were innocuous. They even fitted likely candidates into their lightsabers one at a time, the other man standing with his lit 'saber at the ready, just in case.

The time at their mini-lab had not been wasted, however. Qui-Gon had been quite entranced with the fall of Obi-Wan's auburn hair as he'd bent his head over the magniscope and spectrometer. 

From the twinkle in Obi-Wan's eye when he turned to Qui-Gon after stowing the equipment, the Knight was well aware of this. "Ready for lunch, Qui?" he asked with a grin.

"Yes, but I'm afraid we'll have to get used to ship's rations again. We were rather spoiled at The Fountains."

Obi-Wan chuckled. "We can safely assume that there's no fresh bread or fruit on board."

"Well, I did save two pieces of califruit from firstmeal." Qui-Gon tossed him one he fished from the pocket of his cloak. They sat side by side on folding chairs at the swingdown kitchen table, and made a meal of the fruit plus some nutmix Obi-Wan foraged from the cabinet. The men soon were eating with one hand apiece, as their hands found each other unerringly, and stayed clasped throughout lunch. Obi-Wan entertained fancies of feeding Qui-Gon bits of the nutmix, but thought that was better saved for the intimacy of home. Who knew where it might lead?

* * *

The pair made their report to the Council, neither they nor the Councillors surprised at the lack of results. From the solemn expressions on the assembled faces, Qui-Gon could tell that it was as he had feared: he was not the only one who thought the source of corruption might be within the Temple itself.

They showered as soon as they returned to their apartment, thankful that they still lived in Master/Padawan quarters which boasted two freshers, rather than the one in the single or pairs rooms. Showering together was definitely a future option, but both men were still firmly in courtship mode.

Of course, actually living together afforded intimacies uncommon to dating couples. The scent of soap and water clung to their skin as they met in the hall. Both of them had long hair now, and they left it unbound to dry faster. Obi-Wan wore only an inner tunic and his leggings, Qui-Gon his robe. 

Before Qui-Gon could reach the couch, Obi-Wan snagged his arm and pulled him into an embrace. His head nestled between Qui-Gon's neck and shoulder, he said one word in a muffled voice, "Home."

Qui-Gon pulled him even closer, and kissed the top of his head. "Where my heart is." After a moment more, Qui-Gon sighed. "Let's finish our work so we can eat and go to bed. I feel like I've been up for two days running."

They typed up their mission reports, seeing Yoda's message requesting a private meeting the next day on each of their screens. Qui-Gon threw together some sandwiches, and they meditated peacefully for a few moments before bedtime.

Obi-Wan felt the heat of his former Master's knees against his own, then felt the greater warmth of a blue regard wishing his eyes open.

"Qui-Gon," he breathed, as he reached for a big hand, and brushed his lips across its knuckles.

"My Knight." It was Qui-Gon who closed his eyes now. Emotions held in check for fourteen long years were finally freed. 

Obi-Wan pulled the hand in his own until Qui-Gon was close enough to kiss. Soft lips touched the Master's forehead, nose, cheeks, and chin. Then they breathed the same air and were kissing, just like that.

A peck on the lips but neither sought to deepen it. Both were conscious that this was a sacred moment in their relationship, and that they wanted to savor each step along the way to intimacy.

"My Qui-Gon."

The Master noted with satisfaction that his Knight had an uncharacteristically possessive tone in his voice. "My Obi-Wan," he answered, unconsciously using the very same inflection.

* * *

The next morning, they arose by seventh hour. Freshly washed and dressed, they headed out to the dining hall. Master Ault and Senior Padawan Bant were eating at a table near the entrance.

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan put their trays on the other pair's table with a smile. After a round of greetings, Ault and Qui-Gon started talking shop, in this case, archaic Council regulations.

Obi-Wan and Bant chatted, with the familiar sound of the Masters' debate in the background. "We're just back from Nemor. Unfortunately, the only productive aspect of the trip was a nice mini-vacation."

Bant's eyes became positively enormous. "I like the sound of that, Obi." 

"Somehow I thought you might. What have you and Master Ault been doing?"

"We've been tracing the route of the cargo ship that delivered the Darantec crystals. Luckily, since the distance is only ten parsecs, there are no other stops along the way, even for refueling. The same vessel is used for the company's other deliveries; it's actually one of a fleet of five, and we're still checking Darantec's other customers. So far, nothing seems suspicious."

"Good luck to you. We're off to visit Master Yoda. I'll try to see you at dinner."

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan handed their trays to a food service droid, and headed for Yoda's quarters.

* * *

They were seated and settled in Master Yoda's common room in no time, a cup of cha in hand. Yoda's penetrating gaze moved from one to the other in a leisurely manner.

"Incomplete your report was." Yoda made a sound one could almost call humming. "Gaps there were in your schedule." His eyes glinted when he saw his Padawan and Grand Padawan blush simultaneously.

Qui-Gon cleared his throat. "We were on our own time, Master."

"Bah!" Their little green mentor apparently had decided that teasing them was the first order of business, as he did not infrequently at Council meetings. "Send you to Nemor to investigate factory, return you do looking like honeymooners on Alderaan."

By this point, Obi-Wan's face resembled a cherrafruit, only redder.

"Master Yoda," Qui-Gon said, his voice as close to a whine as Obi-Wan had ever heard it. 

"Would you like to hear more about Darantec?" asked Obi-Wan, in a transparent attempt to divert attention from personal matters.

Yoda thumped his gimer stick against the couch, obviously frustrated that the two men had had the foresight to seat themselves out of range. "Hmmmph! When evasion and diversion I want, send you to mediate I will." He cackled gleefully. "Heard all about mission I have. Now interesting details tell me you will."

Thoroughly defeated in a way only his Master could achieve, Qui-Gon put down his cup and looked Yoda in the eye. "Obi-Wan and I are keeping company, my Master."

Yoda's cackles degenerated into hysterical laughter they had never heard from the little green creature before. "K-k-keeping c-c-company!" he wheezed repeatedly. "Six hundred years ago last time I heard that one. Before south tower was built. Paid attention in history class you did."

Being laughed at by Master Yoda was a mixed blessing: he obviously loved the two men dearly, and they were used to being teased separately for various alleged foibles, but this was the first time they had to sit there and take it as a couple. Their Jedi serenity was about to undergo a whole new phase of testing. 

"When planning to tell me this were you? When eight hundred years old you are, no time to wait for bonding announcement there is."

* * *

Escaping from Master Yoda and his gimer stick by just a whisker, and a promise to send him the first invitation, the two Jedi fled to their quarters.

They landed in a heap on the couch, sounds between laughter and moans emanating from them. When they'd settled down and caught their breath, Qui-Gon gave Obi-Wan a dazzling smile. "That went well, didn't it?"

Obi-Wan groaned and held his sides. "No more jokes, Qui. My stomach's starting to hurt."

Just as Obi-Wan had hoped, Qui-Gon's hands covered his belly and started to rub. "Better?" 

"Not quite yet," Obi-Wan said with a playful grin. 

Obligingly, Qui-Gon continued his ministrations. Obi-Wan was all but purring under him as Qui-Gon bent to kiss him. 

"Mmmmm. You have healing hands, you know that?" Obi-Wan brushed hair out of Qui-Gon's eyes. "A healing mouth, too," he said, as he raised his head for another kiss.

"One thing I can't do is turn back the clock, though," said Qui-Gon wryly. "It's coming up on tenth hour. You're teaching Astromech, and it's Diplo Et for me."

Obi-Wan sighed. "Too true. Back to the grind." 

Another lingering kiss, and they disentangled. Datapads in hand, they hugged at the door and headed to class.

* * *

They met for lunch in the dining hall. The decibel level was even greater than usual. Qui-Gon followed Obi-Wan to a side table the Knight determined had a slight acoustical advantage.

"Do you know what's going on?" Obi-Wan said.

Qui-Gon smiled grimly. "Yes, I do. For the first time in Temple history, Master Yoda's quarters have been robbed."

"The flawed crystal?" Obi-Wan asked, dreading the answer.

"I'm afraid so."

Obi-Wan didn't have to ask if they had caught, or even knew, who did it. He could see the answer in Qui-Gon's eyes. Now it was definite: someone in the Temple was at least implicated in the corruption of the crystals, a truly frightening thought.

* * *

An emergency Council meeting was held that afternoon, and lasted well into the evening. Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon were present; their investigation was now officially an ongoing one. 

New safety standards were set: every lightsaber, including each Master's own, had to be checked before all practices, drills, and competitions. No more individual missions for the duration: the pairs were to check each other's crystals on site.

No Padawan below the age of sixteen would even practice with a lit 'saber, and each salle would have two instructors on duty for each class.

Master Yoda made a silent plea to the Force that all these precautions would be enough.

* * *

After the meeting, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan went back to their rooms. Even as the Master's palm keyed the entry, he knew something was wrong.

Sure enough, their quarters had been ransacked as well. Obi-Wan immediately looked for the crystal samples he had taken from Darantec, and blew out a sigh of relief when he found them still mixed in with his rock collection.

Qui-Gon came into his bedroom, a rakish glimmer in his eye. "Hiding in plain sight, eh? Clever lad." He embraced Obi-Wan from behind, kissing him where beard met ear.

"Well, I've acquired quite a few stones over the last fourteen years, thanks to a certain Jedi Master. I never thought that they'd provide protective coloration against a thief in the Temple, though."

Qui-Gon nodded understandingly. "I didn't really believe until now that one of our own could be involved. That's what the miscreant has been counting on, and it's given him an advantage so far."

"But now with the meeting and all the posted rules and warnings, that will change." 

Qui-Gon picked up a Nemorian crystal. "It's probably best to keep these here. The intruder is unlikely to search our rooms again."

"Especially since my, er, 'acquisition' of the crystals is one of the things we decided not to mention in our report." Obi-Wan took the crystal from Qui-Gon's hand and placed it seemingly randomly with the others. 

"Do you have a favorite, Obi?" Qui-Gon asked, one hand waving at the rocks, the other on Obi-Wan's shoulder. 

"It used to be the first one you gave me," the young Knight said shyly, "but when you gifted me with the aquamarine upon my Knighthood, I thought you might have been telling me something." He leaned back into Qui-Gon's arms. "And it appears that I was right."

"So you knew the significance of the aquamarine, did you?" He picked up the greenish blue rock.

Obi-Wan shifted in Qui-Gon's embrace so that he was now facing him. "Mineralogy was my favorite fifth-level elective. Aquamarine symbolizes a happy marriage."

"I'm glad to see you did your homework, my love." Qui-Gon swooped down for a peck on Obi-Wan's chin. "Aquamarine has another characteristic I value highly: it reminds me of the color of your eyes." Each eyelid was duly kissed.

By now, Obi-Wan was all but limp in Qui-Gon's arms. He felt surrounded and protected by his love, despite the break-in. He roused himself with an effort. "We should report this to Security."

"Already done, love, while you checked your collection. They should be here in a few moments, and when they've finished with us, we can finally go to bed."

The security detail of four Patrol Knights scoured their quarters for clues without success. It seemed more and more likely to Qui-Gon that they were up against a Jedi Master, not an opponent he had ever wanted to fight.

After they'd left, Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon set the apartment to rights, then dropped into a light meditation. They showered and prepared for bed.

Obi-Wan came out to the common room, hoping to resume a tradition started in childhood but discontinued in later years. As a junior Padawan, he used to hug Qui-Gon every night before going to sleep, basking in the comfort and reassurance of his touch. As he grew older, he'd become embarrassed by his immaturity, as he saw it, and even more mortified by what a simple embrace with this man could do to his body.

Qui-Gon was resting on the couch, a book in hand. Obi-Wan wordlessly cuddled up close as the book landed on a nearby cushion, abandoned. 

Qui-Gon knew instinctively that the intimacy Obi-Wan offered him was a resumption of their years-ago nightly ritual, suspended for no other reason than adolescent pride. 

Fourteen years of evolving thoughts, feelings, and desires were woven into the complex tapestry binding them together now, heart to heart.

Qui-Gon's hand, weighted with all of the days between them, reached out to tweak Obi-Wan's nose, the way their bedtime ritual had always begun. The look in Obi-Wan's eyes held him fast: gratitude, happiness, and an overwhelming love.

As he ran his hands over Obi-Wan's back, he could feel the difference a decade and a half of Jedi training had made, but the emotions stirred were the same--love, protectiveness, pride--all of them growing, like Obi-Wan himself.

"I've missed this," Qui-Gon said, voice rough with emotion.

"You'll never have to do without it again, Qui."

An unspoken longing lived in his green gaze, one that Qui-Gon could finally satisfy. Instead of the bear hug which had ended their erstwhile bedtime ritual, Qui-Gon pulled Obi-Wan up for a kiss.

* * *

The next morning after breakfast, Qui-Gon called up Bant's carefully compiled list of Darantec clients. Always meticulous in his research methodology, Qui-Gon went over them one by one, making notes on any available information on the customers.

When he finished the dishes, Obi-Wan came in and started reading over Qui-Gon's shoulder, hair falling in an auburn shower on his back. 

"Scroll up for me, would you?" Obi-Wan had seen a name he recognized, an under-secretary on Senator Palpatine's staff. He had a passing familiarity with Senate support personnel, thanks to his practicum under Chancellor Valorum.

"Ah, yes. Palpatine. Why do you suppose a Senator from a backwater planet without any Force-sensitives needs crystals?" Relief suffused Qui-Gon's voice: their new prime suspect hailed from _outside_ the Temple precincts, though it seemed he had access to them.

"Why, indeed?" Obi-Wan's breath brushed the fine strands of hair near Qui-Gon's ear. "May I?" Obi-Wan took the datapad and started typing at high speed. "Looks like we're in luck, Qui." He pulled him out of his chair, and kept his hand in his to lead him to the couch.

"Could this have something to do with the opening of the next Senate session in a week?" Qui-Gon absently rubbed Obi-Wan's palm with his index finger. He was the only one who could keep pace with Obi-Wan's quicksilver mind.

"It has everything to do with it, my Qui. Senator Palpatine has been giving Convocation galas for the past few years. I just checked the listing of upcoming events and, sure enough, this year is no different. His Convocation Festival is scheduled at the Naboo Embassy a week from today."

"So, do we have a date, Knight Kenobi?"

"How could I say no, Master Jinn?"

* * *

They used the week before the festival wisely. Both men memorized the layout of the embassy, brushed up on the various dialects of Naboo, and scrutinized the Jedi files for any prior connection between Palpatine and crystal use.

At last, the day of the Convocation Festival came. Attendees were requested to wear civilian garb to the party, so as not to let political divisiveness stand in the way of the celebration. This stipulation had unexpected benefits for the Jedi team.

If Qui-Gon had thought Obi-Wan a sensualist before, he'd never seen him in the white slacks and jacket jauntily hugging his frame. His fingers were drawn to the silken material, and curled around the collar as he drew Obi-Wan in for a kiss.

"We're supposed to blend in with the crowd," he murmured against his lips. "Every eye in the place, and a few feelers, will be on you as soon as we walk in."

"Should I change then?"

"It wouldn't help, lad. You could wear your formal robe, and you'd still turn heads."

"One head is all I want to turn, Qui." As if in illustration, he put a finger on the Master's jaw to turn his face to him for a kiss. "I'm not the only one who'll draw looks, love." He smoothed his hands over the soft green fabric of Qui-Gon's tunic.

"But you're the only one who gets to touch, Obi." Another kiss, then they headed for the door. 

* * *

The reception was in full swing when the Jedi arrived. Approximately four hundred revelers were already there. The main party was located in the grand ballroom, a huge square room decorated with flags of Republic planets, bits of color welcome against the white marble walls and floors.

Buffet tables with the cuisine of one hundred worlds beckoned to the partygoers. Almost any yen could be indulged: bridhie pastries from Malastare, derjta fresh off an Alderaanian transport, Deraban jiti eggs. And those were only the appetizers.

It was just as well that Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan had known to skip lunch beforehand, thanks to years of experience with the rich food served at diplomatic banquets. 

The embassy was a warren of rooms, all but indistinguishable from a maze. People were moving from room to room, in search of different food and better conversation. This was ideal for the two men's purposes. Holocams perched high on the walls of every room, but the merest suggestion of Force was enough to alter their appearance sufficiently to preserve anonymity. They made a methodical search of all the public areas of the embassy, casting their Force sense out before them, trying to pick up anything anomalous. Other than startling a few lovers in mid-kiss, they were unsuccessful.

After tightly linking with Obi-Wan, who remained by a fountain in a side room, Qui-Gon proceeded to enter the restricted sections of the building. He found himself in the province of the droids: kitchens, laundry, storage. A wave, and they went about their business. The Master was primarily interested in Palpatine's private quarters, and looked for the staircase he knew led up to them.

As he'd expected, the entrance was heavily shielded against Force use. Palpatine was definitely their man. His secretary had ordered crystals that only a Force-sensitive would have reason to possess. Apparently, the Senator had spent his life hiding his strength in the Force.

Using a combination of his and Obi-Wan's power, Qui-Gon was able to pass through the shielding without raising any alarms. He went first to Palpatine's study, pulled there by the same sense of wrongness that he'd felt in the practice room the day the flawed crystals had been discovered. His eyes were immediately drawn to a crystal sculpture of a mythological figure named Atleus on Qui-Gon's home planet. According to legend, Atleus carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. In this case, the world was represented by a crystal sphere. Tiny crystals winked within, refracting in the dim light.

Qui-Gon knew that these were the fellows to the corrupted lot sent to the Temple. Tremendous power emanated from the sphere. He had a hand on his lightsaber without conscious thought. Qui-Gon stilled himself with an effort. The resonance of the gems pulsed within him now, as he felt his heartbeat and respiration match the crystalline cadence.

A shadow crept across the globe, and Qui-Gon became aware of Palpatine's presence. Even then, he did not blanch. Thinking quickly, he sought the deepest possible link with Obi-Wan's mind, drawing strength and shining Light to him. He swept his 'saber, the highest setting of which could turn diamonds to powder, into the living heart of the crystal sphere. 

For an endless instant, Obi-Wan's power seemed to falter, as the Knight focused on fighting off an attack from a Zabrakian minion of Palpatine's. Then, the awesome energy of his unclouded mind returned full force to unite with Qui-Gon. Together, it was enough. In seconds, the crystal sphere became a bowl of dust, inert forevermore. The two Sith crashed to the floor, as darkness invaded the space surrounding them, only to be dissipated by the Light of the Jedi Knights. Their remains dematerialized in the newly clean air.

A pair of sweating and panting Jedi met in the main hall, surrounded by guests oblivious to the battle that had just taken place. A few knowing smiles tracked their progress through the room, as an obvious reason for their disheveled state presented itself. Allowing themselves some very roguish grins, they made their farewells undeterred by any of Palpatine's retainers.

* * *

They went first to Yoda, who had rifki cakes for them, regardless of the party food. A good thing, really, because they hadn't had time to do full justice to the buffet.

Yoda sat nodding and humming to himself, as Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon knelt in front of him. "Sith Master he was. Averted great danger you have." He placed tiny claws on their cheeks. "Honored I am to call you kin." The three remained in silent communion, almost a shared meditation, until the sounding of the midnight chime.

Qui-Gon sighed. "It's getting late, my Master. We're off to bed."

Yoda huffled happily, a sly expression on his wizened face. "Good idea that is, my Padawan. New emanations in the Force I feel. You two even more so, eh?"

The two men beat a hasty retreat at that, before they could embarrass themselves by laughing hysterically.

* * *

As soon as they locked the door behind them, Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon made straight for each other's arms. 

"I do sense a change, Qui. Ever since we linked at the embassy, I've felt your thoughts and emotions more clearly." Obi-Wan's eyes searched Qui-Gon's, hoping that his theory was correct.

Qui-Gon laughed in pure, unadulterated bliss, and pulled Obi-Wan even closer to him. "Yes, my love, we've just created a life-bond between us." He kissed his Knight and as he entered his mouth, Qui-Gon penetrated Obi-Wan's very soul, and felt Obi-Wan do the same. They held each other tightly, waiting for the bond to stabilize.

At last, Obi-Wan was able to move. Trying to catch his breath, he said huskily, "I've got something to give you." 

Obi-Wan came to Qui-Gon as he watered the plants in the common room, an aquamarine in hand. He took the jug from Qui-Gon's fingers, and replaced it with his own warm palm. "There is a tradition in my family of a betrothed couple exchanging stones." His speech was uncharacteristically formal. "I hope that you will accept this gem that augurs so well for our future together, and place it on top of your headboard tonight. If you agree, keep it there until we are officially life-bonded, in token of our new commitment."

Qui-Gon was speechless. He himself had tried to resist the impulse to bind Obi-Wan to him permanently, until his spirit had been overwhelmed by Obi-Wan's Light at the embassy. Now they would never be separated again.

His hand shaking, he took the gem from Obi-Wan's fingers. "I accept, Obi-Wan. It will be my light in the dark until we become one." Qui-Gon kissed him with gentle passion. 

The aquamarine glowed in their joined hands, luminescent with their joy. 


End file.
